


Young Gods

by ofCloudlessClimesandStarrySkies



Series: In the forest of the Night [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean to the Rescue, Deanmon has his own agenda, Demon Dean, Drabble, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Multi, Not, Sad, Songfic, Threats of Violence, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:35:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofCloudlessClimesandStarrySkies/pseuds/ofCloudlessClimesandStarrySkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He saves her, like the stand up guy he used to be. And at first, Meg is grateful.</p><p>*Song credit for title lyrics of Young God and  to the amazing Halsey. Enjoy, I hope!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young Gods

(He says, "Oh, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legends,")

She's sitting in some dank dungeon yet again, waiting for the next round of horrendous torture when he comes to her.  
Meg is for all intensive purposes dead in the ground, but here she is. Crowley saved her, after having just killed her. Which seems all shades of crazy but isn't that just the king of hell for you.  
So, she lives. But it isn't much of a life. She's opened and gored so many times she isn't sure she'll ever fit back together again.  
So seeing Dean Winchester, armed with a blade she swears she's seen before, looking like some fairy tale knight come to rescue the fair maiden she definitely isn't, feels like some kind of undeserved poetry. "Well I'll be, my handsome rescuer at last." She snarks weakly.  
"Meggie, Meggie , Meggie what ever will I do with you?" He chuckles, his tone is dark and even Meg feels uncomfortable with the well honed edge of it.  
The righteous man is different. His eyes flash as black as obsidian and she registers just how different. 

("I'm the king and you're the queen and we will stumble through heaven")

He leads her out after he's murdered every other demon on the premises, there's blood oozing its way over every surface. His callused hand is just another cuff around her wrist, he's dragging her like some rag doll. "Deano, woah, slow down." Meg says with an underlying protest.  
"Shut up, bitch."  
She stops suddenly. "No, why should I?"  
The grin that crosses his face sets her heart off like a broken propeller.  
"Because if you don't, I'll give you something to squeal about." His tone is gruff, casual, but Meg doesn't doubt the threat.  
So they keep moving, until the sleek black surface of the impala greets them. He shoves her in shotgun carelessly, before getting in the driver's side. "Not in the trunk? I'm shocked. Does this make me Sam? Where is gigantor anyway?"  
She purrs, chuckling dryly as if there's anything funny about this situation, as if she's not genuinely curious about the location of the younger Winchester who's wedged himself in to her mind.  
Dean doesn't even grace her with a glance. It hurts more than it should. Cold worry trickles down her spine. Seeing what he's capable of now, a question rests on her tongue. 'Did you butcher him too?'

( "If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes")

Dean's blasting classic rock out of the stereo (that hasn't changed) and singing along badly (neither has that). Meg cringes. "You mind turning that down? Your voice is giving me a migraine. Demons aren't supposed to get migraines."  
"Driver picks music, whore in shotgun shuts her cake hole." He replies with a wry smirk she would slap off if it wasn't a front row ticket to swerving in to oncoming traffic.  
"Go fuck yourself, Dean." Rolls off her lips effortlessly. This banter was at one time their routine.  
He fixes her with a look, a foreign one that makes Meg squirm in her own borrowed skin. "I think I'd rather fuck you." The past hunter purrs after the tension between them has stepped over the line of 'uncomfortable' and in to 'suffocating'. "Please, as if I'd let that happen." "Who said I needed your permission, sweetheart." That's a threat, clear as day. And the way his eyes swallow her up like bottomless, green pits makes the demoness want to spill the nothing in her stomach. Because the attention that in her darkest desires she craved feels wrong now. Not even she is immune to Winchester charm completely, though she's pretty damn close. Wanting Dean to look at her with hunger didn't mean she'd hoped to be consumed with no care. Besides, this isn't real. Not even close. The demoness isn't blind, she knows it's the dark in his soul drawing him to her. That if he were the Dean she loved to hate he'd be running to the arms of the one he actually cared about. He's closer to being like her now, to understanding but she's still nothing in his eyes and that alone tells Meg she needs to do something about this. Her thoughts are running a mile a minute. A repeating mantra of 'Fuck' and 'I'm dead' But one clear, reasonable plan rings through. 'Find Clarence, tell him his boyfriend is insane, find Sam and tell him....tell him you're sorry. About /everything/' 

( "I know you wanna go to heaven but you're human tonight")


End file.
